


The Armory Thief

by OneFail_AtATime



Series: Arya x Gendry Week 2018 [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Post-War, mention of miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 10:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15705243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneFail_AtATime/pseuds/OneFail_AtATime
Summary: Winterfell's Master-at-Arms, Arya Stark, knows that someone has been sneaking into her locked armory. She just can't figure out who.





	The Armory Thief

**Prompt: Caught Red-Handed**

 

 

“I know what I saw.”

 

“Not sayin’ you didn’t.”

 

“But you  _looked_  like I didn’t. You think I’m making it up.”

 

“I didn’t say that.”

 

“But you  _thought_  it.”

 

Gendry sighed and fell back on the edge of their bed, blinking slowly in an effort to calm himself and gather his thoughts. “Arya …” His voice was soft but he knew he couldn’t completely hide his annoyance and exhaustion.

 

“Sorry.” She apologized quickly, having detected the layers of emotion, as she always did.” It’s just- you know how- and- gods! I hate this.” Her small hands went to the curve of her waist as a small huff escaped her. “Don’t you dare speak a word. This is  _your_  fault.”

 

Her accusation made him laugh, which only seemed to add to her frustration. “I  _am_  sorry.” Gendry reached across the gap between them to where she determinedly remained a few feet away. His large, warm hand circled round her wrist, pulling her to him so that she now stood in front of him. Her knee knocked against his legs as his arms came up to wrap around her waist. “I’m sorry.” He repeated as he buried his face into her swelling abdomen. He could swear that she was decidedly bigger than the day before. 

 

“You’ve made me so happy, Arya, and here we are arguing.”

 

“We always argue.” Arya reasoned. “They just seem to be more and more stupid the longer this goes on.” She leaned into his embrace. “I know what I saw. Someone’s been sneaking into the armory,  _my_  armory.”

 

“I believe you.” He insisted. “But what will you do?”

 

Arya sighed into him. “I don’t know. I just need to figure out  _who_ and  _why_  they’re doing it. The entire situation is … odd.”

 

“You’ll catch them,” Gendry assured her, his face still pressed against her pregnant stomach. They remained like that, holding one another as he sat in silence, cherishing the way she felt in his arms and how it felt to know that it was  _his_  child that she was carrying. It would never cease to amaze him. “I love you. I love you both.”

 

** *

 

Over a week later, Gendry returned to their chamber to find Arya pacing back and forth as she undressed for bed. Her hands tugged at the laces of her over-sized jerkin, one that she had stolen from him when her stomach had grown beyond the fit of her own clothes.

 

“A practice sword went missing.” Arya blurted as soon as he had shut the door behind him. “But it’s been locked. It is always locked.”

 

“What would anyone need a practice sword for?”

 

“How am I supposed to know?” His wife demanded as she fell back onto the bed. “It’s just …odd.”

 

Gendry hummed in agreement and sat on the bed. He took he knees and swung her legs so that they draped over his lap. He tugged at the laces of her boots and let them fall to the fall before he took one of her calves in his hands and began to massage gently. Arya continued to recount her day, pausing every so often to sigh whenever he managed to calm a particularly knotted muscle in her leg.

 

“Whatever’s going on, you’ll work it out.” He murmured loyally once he had finally coaxed her into laying back up against the pillow. 

 

“You weren’t made Master-at-Arms for nothing.”

 

“Only because I’m good at killing people,” Arya replied with a yawn as she curled against his chest. Her hand fell to her abdomen, something he had noticed happened subconsciously more and more. “But I’m no – I’m no Spider.” Her voice was heavy with sleep already.

 

Gendry tucked his chin to kiss the top of her hair. His hand covered her own over her stomach. “That’s exactly right.” He murmured. “You’re a wolf.”

 

                ***

 

Pain.

 

He was in pain.

 

 _Seven hells_. He opened his eyes, all sleep gone from him, and looked around the room. No intruders, just a pregnant Arya with her hand on his bare chest, threatening to pinch and punch him once more.

 

“The baby’s hungry.  _I’m_ hungry.” She said plainly as she pinched him again, ignoring his swearing. Gendry threw back the furs and rolled his eyes.

 

“Honeycakes again?”

 

“Sweetbread.” Her stormy gray eyes were gleaming. “Hot Pie remembered from last time and baked  _loads._ ” He chuckled as he threw on a worn tunic and leaned across the bed to kiss Arya. He would never get used to the sight of her there in  _their_  bed, hair beautifully disheveled, and eyes bright.

 

“Better the sweetbread than a tray of Sansa’s lemon cakes.”

 

Arya ignored his teasing and leaned back against the bed frame. “Our children will be her heirs if they so desire. I think the least she can do is share her desserts.”

 

“Fair point.” Gendry agreed as he leaned in to kiss her once more. “I’ll see if there are any of those cinnamon crusts left.”

 

His wife’s eyes gleamed in return. “I love you, Bull.”

 

“I love you, Wolf.” He replied with one last glance at her sitting there in their bed. The sight would be committed to memory forever, right beside all the other Arya memories he held dear: the night they reunited just before the war, her saying she loved him for the first time, their morning wedding in the godswoods. There were countless memories and he prayed he would be able to remember every second he had spent with Arya Stark.

 

His mind was on those memories when he heard the clatter of metal just behind the door he had passed. His son’s door. A rush of worries filled his mind, both rational and irrational, as he pushed the door open.

 

His son of five years stood in the middle of his bedroom, stooped in order to retrieve the sword that had fallen to the floor.  _The training sword_. A second sword was clutched in his right palm. “Ned?” The boy jumped back, clearly startled, before he finally looked up to meet his father’s gaze. The familiar icy Baratheon blue was mirrored in his own.

 

“Yes, Papa?”

 

He pushed away from the warmth that spread through him at being called  _Papa_  to focus on what he had discovered. Arya had mentioned the sword that had been taken just that night. “So you were the one breaking into the armory.”

 

Young Ned’s gaze remained locked with his own. It had been clear years ago that their son had inherited stubborn determination from both his parents, but his steady nerve when being confronted had been completely inherited from Arya.

 

“Yes, Papa.”

 

“And you’re training with the stolen sword in the middle of the night?” Gendry questioned, hoping to drag an explanation from his son.

 

“Yes, Papa.”

 

Gendry’s lips pressed together when no explanation was given. Gendry took the swords from his son and pulled him into his arms, carrying him back to the child’s bed. “Tell me why.” He spoke softly as he set his son down on the edge of the mattress and took a seat next to him.

 

“I’m scared,” Ned answered with a child’s honesty. “I  _have_  to train. The baby’s coming and Mama can’t train as much. She says I’m not ready for two swords but I  _am_ , Papa. You fight with two weapons. Mama fights with two weapons. The baby’s coming and I have to train.”

 

An ache of sadness filled him and he reached out to wrap an arm around his son, pulling him closer. “Son, you can’t blame your Mama or the baby for her not being able to train you.”

 

“But I  _don’t_!” Ned protested. “I have to fight so I can protect  _this_  baby. I’ll be the big brother. I  _have_  to protect them. They’ll be our pack like Mama says, and I  _have_  to … ‘specially after …” His voice broke and Gendry saw his son wipe at his eyes. “I wasn’t a big brother last time.

 

_Last time._

 

He remembered the last time. He didn’t want it to be a saved memory, but it was. It was right there with every memory coated in darkness: the terror of Harrenhall, of the war, of losing loved ones. It was the memory of waking up to bloodied sheets months after they thought they were safe. It was the memory of the iron smell and blood red hands as he had held Arya and called for a maester while they both could taste the salt of their own tears.

 

“That wasn’t your fault, Ned. It was nobody’s fault. Sometimes the gods take our loved ones and we don’t understand why.”

 

“The gods aren’t taking this baby.” His son said with every ounce of stubborn determination that he had inherited from his parents. Ned hopped from the bed and collected both training swords from the floor. “I’ll train all night. I’ll protect the pack.”

 

A soft chuckle across the room caught their attention. Gendry looked away from his son to see Arya standing in the doorway, still wearing his old tunic and breeches that she had fallen asleep in. “I was wondering what was taking so long but it looks as if you caught our burglar.” Arya teased, her gray gaze flickering over the too large training sword before she looked back to their son.

 

“Caught red-handed.”

 

Arya smiled warmly at young Ned and crossed the chamber to stand with her husband and son. “I’ll always trust you to protect our pack, Neddy. You’re going to be a great big brother. An even better big brother than Uncle Jon.”

 

The boy’s eyes grew wide at the mention of his favorite uncle. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Gendry promised as he took the practice sword from his son once more. “Now, what do you say we sneak into the kitchen and find some sweets for Mama and the baby? And maybe some for ourselves?”

 

Ned nodded enthusiastically and launched himself towards the door, only pausing under the frame to turn back to his parents. “As long as Mama doesn’t eat all of Aunt Sansa’s lemon cakes.”

 

A loud huff escaped Arya as she found herself staring back at two sets of identical smirks that both Gendry and Ned shared. A small prayer for a girl escaped from the back of her mind so that she would be even against her son and husband in their teasing.

 

“She didn’t eat  _all_  of them,” Gendry admitted, coming to his wife’s defense as they followed their son from his room. Arya smiled appreciatively.

 

“You’re right. Mama just ate most.” Ned teased as he threw his arms around Arya’s waist, burying his face into her abdomen. “But I promise to save  _all_ the sweets for the baby.”

 

“Like I said. You’ll be the best big brother.” Arya whispered affectionately as she ran a hand through her son’s raven colored hair. She could feel Gendry’s eyes on them, just as they always were whenever she and Ned spent time together. He loved catching her in motherly moments, which were such a stark contrast to the cold warrior that he knew from the war. And if she was being entirely honest, she loved letting him catch her in them. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second piece of work that I've ever posted. I'm a writer who appreciates all types of feedback because how am I going to become a better writer if I don't know what works for the people reading it? So let me know what you liked, and didn't like! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this. Future Arya/Gendry fics are becoming some of my favorites to write/read. I love the dynamic of our warrior/assassin duo being faced with a challenge they never thought they'd see: parenting. In this fic scenario, Sansa rules the North in her own right with Arya at her side as her trusted advisor. There's also something that I've latched onto about a single Sansa ruling on her own with a married Arya who stayed in Winterfell - a combination that both never saw coming. 
> 
> Plus, don't tell me that Gendry wouldn't dote on a pregnant Arya, something that she would hate and love at the same time. So don't mind me, I'll just be writing all the parent and child interactions featuring our fave couple. :)


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